Bus Tales » 18

Deepest reaches of his personhood

admin — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 14:12:21 +0000

A rotund dude got on the bus wearing a track suit. It was pretty crowded, and I was sitting near the back. He put some coins in the fare box and proceeded to walk towards an open seat. The bus driver called him back because he was a bit short. He walked back and while reaching for some change, plunged his right hand a bit too forcefully into his right pocket of his track suit pants. Yep. The force of his hand overwhelmed the lateral force of the elastic waistband on his hips, i.e., his track pants ended up around his ankles. No underwear… At the very moment his track pants dropped past his knees, I saw in slow motion a collective movement of all the seated patrons in the rows of seats ahead of me arching backwards as if struck by an invisible hand. They resembled a synchronized wave, of the type you customarily see spreading across the stadia of crowded sports arenas. Since this poor unfortunate fellow was a bit advanced in years, all of the curly hairs peppering his bare bottom had turned a stately gray. As he instinctively knelt down to pull up his pants, everyone was now in a position to offer sworn testimony that the stately gray had spread to the deepest reaches of his personhood. Good times, that ride…

RESPECT

admin — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 16:39:22 +0000

A slightly nutty guy wearing a knit hat with the word “RESPECT” emblazoned on it got on the bus and started making fun of me, saying I was “big as hell” and laughing (well, I am fat…), then he started commenting on a couple of girls’ gloves then begged someone for a piece of gum and someone else for some potato chips, and was basically just a pain. I guess the word on his hat was ONLY a fashion statement….

Bob Koebensky, 1945-2006

admin — Fri, 27 Apr 2007 12:31:21 +0000

Bob was a MTCO driver in the late 60’s. He drove the 18 that traveled up and down Hennepin Ave. That was where he met the love of his life, Jan. They got married a year or so after their first meeting. They had two beautiful boys, who are now grown.

Last fall, Bob died suddenly and quickly from agressive cancer.

For several years, he drove and worked as support personal at Medicine Lake Lines (now defunct) in Golden Valley, MN. He spent the last few years at Laidlaw Transit, as a supervisor, dispatcher, and driver. We will all miss Bob.

His ashes will be scattered this Saturday at Sunset Park, on Crystal Lake, in Robinsdale, MN.

Bob was amazing person. Anyone who can recall riding on his bus, either then, or as recently as last year on the Plymoth routes, are more than welcome to come to the lake this Saturday.

Friend who is a girl

admin — Sat, 21 Apr 2007 14:30:05 +0000

It was my last trip of the night (about 11), on a mostly empty bus. A young woman got on and sat in one of the front side-facing seats. After a bit, she leaned in to me and said “can I ask you a personal question?”
I paused for a moment.

“Have you ever had an African girlfriend?”

Suspecting the direction this conversation was headed in, I said that I actually did at the moment. I got the opposite reaction that I had expected: she was very happy to hear this, and thought it was great that I wasn’t like other white people she had met, and was actually friendly to blacks. A bit puzzled, I continued to talk to her, and after a bit I detected the slightest hint of an accent.

As it turned out, she was from Cameroon (where English is a native language), and had just moved here two months ago! Then it occured to me: in some English dialects, “girlfriend” means, literally, a friend who is a girl, not a romantic partner. I explained what asking “have you ever had an African girlfriend?” would imply to an American and she got a bit embarrassed, though I felt that I would be saving her from further embarassment if I cleared this up for her now.

As we talked further, I found that her question was completely innocent: she had merely been wondering why white people wouldn’t make eye contact with her and were generally giving her the cold shoulder. Poor girl. My liberal guilt kicked in, and in the remaining time she was on the bus, I gave her a crash course in race relations in the USA, and hopefully convinced her that not all white people hated her.

Bye Shannon!

admin — Fri, 23 Mar 2007 16:45:37 +0000

Normally if I attend any sort of Happy Hour activity after work I like to take a cab home because the 18 can get pretty sketchy after rush hour. Well, tonight I went to happy hour and only stayed for two drinks so I thought, well it’s still early, so I’ll hop the 18 home instead of the cab. Big mistake.

There was a sort of sketchy dude who offered me a seat to which i took him up on the offer. I didnt realize he would then sit next to me and proceed to chat me up for the next half hour on the ride home. I had mistakenly given him my name when he asked for it at first, not knowing what was in store for me. Among some of the things he said to me while i tried to humor him and be afraid for my life at the same time were: “I’m classy”, “I have 10 degrees”, ” I will take you to a candlelit dinner”, “women have affairs with me”, ” I will steal you, I’ve done it before”, “you deserve me”, blah blah… these ort of comments on , while nudging me with his elbow every once in awhile. i hoped he would leave VERY soon. He was, by the way being really loud, and kept using my name, shannon this, shannon that…. He finally left and when he did he said and I quote “BYE– LOVE YOU”.

Some other dudes on the bus must have been quite amused by the whole embarrassing scene b/c when they got off on the next stop, they yelled “BYE SHANNON!”. NICE. REAL NICE. My old cab policy is now in FULL EFFECT.